


Defying The Stars

by auxctor



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: 'Enemies' to Friends to Lovers, 1960s, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crush at First Sight, Disapproving Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Everybody Lives, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not A Slow Burn But a Boil, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romeo and Juliet AU, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around, Unresolved Sexual Tension That Quickly Gets Resolved, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxctor/pseuds/auxctor
Summary: “Neil supposes it started hundreds of years ago when the feud between the Andersons and the Perrys began. Neil knows the feud itself was old enough that no one could even say how it really started; and ever since Thomas Perry lost his job and the family fortune the Perrys had trickled away, his father’s hatred for the Andersons has only gotten worse. So, fights like these were a long time coming.”Or, alternatively, a 60s Romeo and Juliet AU where nobody dies because I’m not putting y’all through that emotional turmoil.
Relationships: Charlie Dalton/Knox Overstreet, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Defying The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> hey all, so finally! i'm back with my next au. i'm really excited about it so here's chapter one.  
> the plan for this one is to be seven chapters, but that's not set in stone. i'm also not sure when the next chapter will be up as i've also got a huge personal project going on right now, but hopefully soon! (and i will be sharing my personal project with y'all once that comes to fruition).  
> also, huge shout out to my wonderful beta @aml13! she is literally the best and is the reason i write half as much as i do. literally all the love to her <3  
> anyway, thank you so much for stopping by, and i hope you enjoy <3  
> much love,  
> bug (auxctor)

It starts with a fight.

Or maybe it started long before this; Neil supposes it started hundreds of years ago, when the feud between the Anderson’s and the Perry’s began. Neil knows the feud itself was old enough that no one could even say how it really started; many feuds go that way; it was far older than any of his grandparents. And ever since Thomas Perry lost his job and the family fortune the Perry’s had trickled away, his father’s hatred for the Anderson’s has only gotten worse. So, fights like these were a long time coming.

But the beginning of the end of the Anderson-Perry feud all starts with a fight.

It’s the last day of school before winter break; everyone is riled up on energy, holiday excitement, and there are boys all around, packing up their things and messing around. It’s all lighthearted and juvenile and really nothing serious.

Until the sound of yelling comes down the hall.

Neil peeks his head out of the dorm, trying to see where the commotion is coming from, and all around the dorm, people are doing the same thing; trying to figure out where the racket is coming from. The shouting is coming from a room further down the hall and Neil knows who’s arguing before he even starts to make his way down in that direction.

Charlie and Cameron get into it like this at least once a week and of course, with all the highly charged energy coming through the dorms on the last day, it’s unsurprising, really.

Neil makes it down to their dorm, where people are already gathering to observe whatever chaos has broken out there, just as all hell breaks loose.

He gets a glance of the fight right as it starts. Charlie Dalton, of course, throws the first punch.

The Daltons are long-time friends of the Perry family, and therefore, Neil and Charlie grew up into being part of this feud between families. Richard Cameron, they’re pretty sure, is some distant Anderson cousin. Nobody’s really sure how he's connected to the whole thing if Neil’s honest, but everyone knows where his loyalties lie.

Which is how Richard Cameron ends up on the receiving end of Charlie’s punch.

A shout of " _ooh_ " breaks out in the crowd of boys that have gathered as Charlie hits Cameron again, but then Cameron manages to get in his own hit, right above the jaw. Charlie stumbles backwards ever so slightly, losing his footing for just a moment before he goes for Cameron again, and the two of them tumble to the floor in a knot of fists and fury.

“Charlie!” Neil shouts because _not again_ but Charlie is already on top of him and there’s blood, Neil isn’t sure who’s. Neil starts to push his way through the crowd of people that have gathered to watch the scene unfold, but people move for him; he is Neil Perry, after all.

It takes a minute for Neil to make his way to the front, but when he does he immediately grabs Charlie by the back of the t-shirt, trying to pull Charlie off; it takes a great effort as Charlie seems hell-bent on beating the shit out of Cameron for whatever started the fight. Eventually, Gerard Pitts jumps in to help pull Cameron away and the sound of a teacher coming down the hall makes everyone scatter. Neil immediately pulls Charlie out of his room and down the hall, pulling him into the bathroom; by now Neil has become an expert at keeping Charlie from getting disciplined after fights which, to be honest, is no easy task.

"I had him this time--" are the first words out of Charlie's mouth.

"A simple _thank you_ would suffice," Neil mumbles, annoyance clear in his voice. Getting expelled their senior year is one of the worst things that could happen and Neil really doesn’t want that happening to Charlie just because of some stupid Perry feud. "You're going to get yourself expelled if you keep pulling shit like this."

Charlie leans against the bathroom sink. His lip is bleeding heavily now, starting to drip on his t-shirt and he raises his hand to try and stop it.

“How long are we even hiding out here? I'm sure Cameron isn't eager to explain himself either," Charlie asks casually, as though he’s not still covered in blood.

Neil just rolls his eyes and gets a cloth wet in the sink so he can get the blood off of Charlie’s face. That's what best friends are for after all, right? More often than not, Charlie and Neil raise hell and get in trouble together but Neil knows when to stop. Charlie, however, takes stopping points as a challenge. 

“How did the fight even start, anyway?” Neil asks, getting some of the blood out of Charlie's hair and Charlie takes a seat on the edge of the counter.

Charlie sits there for a moment in silence, seemingly chewing on his words. “He insulted your family.”

Neil lets out a sigh. “You don’t need to fight my battles for me, Charlie. Besides-- you don’t even like my family.”

“That’s not true.”

Neil can't help but laugh. “I’m literally the only person in my family you can stand.”

“Well--yeah,” Charlie nods. “But it’s about principle.”

There's a moment of silence and Neil opens his mouth to say that he really appreciates it but these fights are completely ridiculous when Knox comes through the bathroom door.

“Charlie, what the hell was that?”

Charlie's face immediately cracks into a wide smile, like Knox isn't about to scold him about what's just transpired. "Knoxious! How are you?"

Knox just rolls his eyes and immediately launches into the rant he goes into every time something like this happens. “Trust me, I’ve been a part of this thing just as long as you have Charlie. But hasn’t this gone too far? I mean, Neil, I get that for your family this _feud_ is as old as time itself but-- isn’t this just ridiculous? We don’t even know the Andersons-- they could be nice people for all we fucking know,” Knox says. Neil considers this for a moment, accidentally bumping Charlie’s nose with his hand as he absentmindedly cleans the blood off his cheek, causing Charlie to swear loudly. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“Here, give me that,” Knox says, and takes the cloth from Neil to start cleaning the blood, much more gently than Neil was doing. Neil leans back against the sink, watching Knox work, and comes back to the conversation at hand.

“I know. It just feels mandatory to hate the Andersons and anyone who has anything to do with them-- and I’m not the one punching Andersons’ in the fucking face.”

“He isn’t an Anderson,” Charlie stresses. “But he’s an enemy by association.”

Neil laughs. “This isn’t fucking war-- he’s not an enemy. He’s just-- not our friend.”

Charlie lets out an annoyed noise in his throat. “And besides, you say we don’t know the Andersons-- maybe not, but we do know Richard Cameron, and Richard Cameron is a _dick_. He had it fucking coming.”

“You can’t just go around punching people just because you think they’re annoying,” Knox says crossly, dabbing beneath Charlie’s busted lip to get the last of the blood on Charlie’s face. Charlie looks up at him and sends him a very obvious wink. Knox rolls his eyes but Neil sees a small smile on his lips as he turns to the sink to wash the blood off the washcloth.

“Well, I’d say this time around went pretty well,” Charlie says, shrugging.

“He broke your nose.”

“It’s not broken, just a little—“ Charlie reaches up to touch his nose and swears loudly. “Swollen.”

“Yes, therefore that makes starting a fight a _great_ idea.”

“Well, even if we did want to make nice with the Andersons,” Neil says. “What would we do? This thing is so much bigger than us.”

Knox pauses, looking over at Neil, surprise clear in his eyes.

"What?" Neil asks, shuffling self-consciously.

“You-- you’re going to listen to me?” Knox raises his eyebrows, lips parted slightly in surprise.

Neil shrugs. “Why not? You’re right-- this thing has been going on for ages and honestly, you’re right. It’s getting out of hand.”

“You guys never listen to my peace-making ideas,” Knox lets out a scoffing laugh, going back to wiping Charlie’s face but to be honest, there’s no blood left to clean. Knox just keeps carefully touching Charlie’s newly bruising face gently with his fingers.

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s going to work but might as well try it. What’s your proposal anyway?”

Knox finally seems to notice the soft way he’s touching Charlie’s features and quickly pulls his hand away, bumping Neil out of the way at the facet he’s been leaning against and starts washing blood off the cloth, even though he already got it a few minutes before. “Well-- I have an idea, but you guys have to agree not to do anything stupid.”

“What’s that?” Neil asks, raising his chin in question as Charlie reaches up to touch his now clean busted lip with a “can’t make any promises.”

Knox sends a look in Charlie’s direction before turning back to Neil to answer. “The Anderson’s have their annual holiday party thing during winter break every year. You guys could go, get to know them—and then maybe talk your parents into doing the same. End this ridiculous thing.”

Neil considers this for a moment. “You might be onto something. We _don't_ know the Anderson's and things have only been getting worse for a while."

"Yeah," Knox gives Charlie a look. "Some people are just _very_ insistent on keeping it alive."

Charlie feigns offense. "Are you saying Cameron never has it coming?"

Both Knox and Neil pointedly don't answer his question so Neil comes back to the topic at hand.

"Well, there’s only two problems with trying to end this feud.”

“What are those?” Knox asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Well the first is that it’s not just about us-- the Anderson’s have just as much a feud with us as we have with them.”

Knox considers this for a moment, pushing himself up to sit on the counter next to Charlie. Neil moves to stand in front of them as they talk, pushing his hands in his pockets as he continues.

“And then there’s the biggest concern; my dad. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to convince him. The only way he’d end it is over my dead fucking body,” Neil scoffs with a half- laugh.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Knox says. He knows Neil’s father, not well, but he’s talked to Thomas Perry enough to know that he’s a stubborn asshole-- and that’s to put it lightly. “But it doesn’t hurt to try. See what happens. Again, the Anderson’s seem like nice people--”

"I'll have to think on it," Neil says. Honestly, ending the tension between the Anderson’s and the Perry’s would probably require a miracle. “When is it? And where?”

“I’m not telling you guys until you decide to not raise hell if you go to the damn thing," Knox says. He turns to Charlie as he speaks but then pauses as he looks at him. Knox puts his hand on Charlie's chin and turns his face to observe the damage leftover from the first fight-- his cheek is starting to bruise darkly and this lip is busted-- Knox frowns as he takes it in.

"Damn, he got you good," Knox mutters quietly. "You're bruising badly."

"I'm sure he looks worse," Charlie responds, defensive. Something about the entire situation makes Neil feel like he's witnessing something he shouldn't.

Knox lets out a scoffing laugh. "I wasn't insulting your fighting, don't worry. You just look-- hurt."

“You gonna kiss it better?” Charlie asks, clear from the way he’s smirking that it’s a joke meant to make Knox blush. They’re always doing that; flirting like kids on a playground; but that’s kind of just what Charlie’s like, so Neil tries not to read too much into it.

Besides, Neil is nearly positive he’s the only queer he knows.

Knox just proceeds to roll his eyes and turns away. Neil swears Knox turns the slightest shade of pink, though. “Ha ha. Very funny, Dalton.”

A small, awkward silence passes between them, so Neil takes the opportunity to interrupt it.

"Well, we should probably get back to packing up for break," Neil says. “Just, Charlie, try to avoid Hager so he doesn’t ask why you look like you’ve been punched in the face.”

Charlie just laughs.

“And try not to punch anyone else,” Knox says and he starts to laugh too, and the whole situation is so ridiculous, Neil starts laughing as well. And for just a moment, Neil forgets in just two hours, he’ll be stuck with his father.

  
  


Going back home is something Neil has been dreading for weeks. Neil’s relationship with his father has never been a good one but more recently, his father’s pressure on him has been soul-crushing, and frankly, the less time with his father, the better.

He walks out to the parking lot to find his father waiting outside of another new car, features upset and Neil immediately gets worried as he wonders distantly where his father got this car; how used it is, and how he got it to look so shiny. Because the wealth his father has now is all performative; every antique they own is a lie, his mother’s purses are knock-offs. Sending Neil to a fancy private school was another form of that denial; another way for the family to look as put-together as it once had been. Neil really wouldn’t mind going to a public school, really wouldn’t hate it too much if they worked off their debt and Neil found ways to see his friends on the weekends; but his father wouldn’t have it.

Now his father has more doubt than pride in himself, and that just makes his father that much more intense.

On the drive home, the silence is tense. Neil doesn’t even know if he did something wrong or if his father is just in a sour mood; probably both. There’s a nervous twist in his stomach so he stays silent, sitting nervously in the passenger, his arms crossed as he looks out the window, trying not to focus on this upcoming break.

It’s his father that breaks the silence.

“So Neil--”

Neil immediately tenses. “Yes, sir?”

“I had a talk with your professors when I came to pick you up.”

“Oh,” Neil responds simply because his chest is tightening from the way his father is heavily glaring at him. “Yes?”

“You ended the semester with a B in Latin?” His father asks, even though it’s not much of a question: it’s an accusation.

Shit. “Yes, sir. The course was harder this semester--”

“I don’t want your excuses, Neil,” his father snaps and Neil feels himself go rigid. He knows exactly what follows. “Why the hell did you end up with a B in Latin?”

Neil wants to say _I was just about to tell you but then you told me to stop making excuses_ but he doesn’t have any courage around his father so he just says; “I’m sorry sir.”

But he knows it’s not enough. He knows it and his father lets out a telling sigh that the yelling is about to begin. And then it does.

It’s hard to explain why Neil’s father is so terrifying when he’s yelling. Maybe it’s because he tells Neil that he’s stupid and not worthy and all the things he knows his dad is right about. Or maybe it’s the sheer volume; his father’s voice is deep and loud and it makes him fucking shake even though Neil likes to pretend he’s scared of nothing. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that his father is one minute away from becoming the other kind of abusive. When they reach the house, Neil’s father grabs his wrist so tightly Neil thinks it may bruise and drags him into the kitchen, yelling at Neil until he feels overheated and ill.

Neil’s father yells at him for two hours. He keeps track by watching the clock hanging over the fireplace, trying to look over his father’s shoulder and pay special attention to the numbers to try and keep himself grounded. Try to keep himself from falling on his hands and knees and getting sick from the pressure of it all.

When the yelling finally stops, when his father is finally done telling him what an awful son he is, Neil is dismissed to his room. He makes his way up the staircase, heart still pumping with the adrenaline that always pours when his father raises his voice, and when he finally gets to his room, he shuts the door behind him gently. Neil lets himself collapse on his bed and rest, because even though he doesn’t feel like he deserves much of anything right now, he thinks he should at least allow himself to rest. Even if he deserved the yelling. Even if he _always_ deserves the yelling.

He feels numb to the bone, like he’s frozen even though his room is warm. Neil has the sudden urge to do something stupid, like he always does after spats with his father-- like jump out his window or hurt himself. The thoughts are demanding things and he hates that he’s plagued by them but they always come on bad nights like this.

Charlie gets in fights and sleeps around. Knox chases girls who don’t like him back and Meeks buries himself in his work.

Everybody’s just looking for a way to stop feeling everything so much, Neil supposes.

These holiday breaks are Neil’s least favorite times of the year. He feels cooped up in his cage of a bedroom; he supposes that’s the one advantage of his snooty private school; he doesn’t have to spend evenings or weekends here. The only redeeming things about breaks are the times he can get away to go spend time with Charlie or Knox or Meeks or Pitts, the phone calls, and the weekends out on the town.

Of course, the breaks always feels more numb and sharper than the rest of the year, but Neil is excellent at acting. He’s great at pretending to be the outgoing, happy person his friends assume he always is. Neil is good at that; acting, lying, whatever you want to call it.

Neil lays in bed, just staring at his ceiling, trying to will away the self-hate and the impulses he’s having. God, how can his father always manage to make him feel this way? Why is his father always so intense and angry?

Neil’s father is clearly not a great man and Neil doesn’t want to be like him. He doesn’t want to keep feeding the sharp ideas his father holds, doesn’t want to keep being hateful and expect the world in return; Neil doesn’t want to become just another Perry. Neil doesn’t want to become his father.

  
  


It’s later that night when Neil sneaks downstairs to use the telephone. It’s not that his father would get him about using the phone in particular, at least at this late hour when no one else is using it, but his father would find some reason to scold Neil. And frankly, Neil really wants to be done with interactions with his father for today.

When Neil dials Knox’s phone number he half expects to get one of Knox’s parents, or at least his sister. It’s late enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if nobody picked up at all, but early enough that he doesn’t feel bad about calling.

Surprisingly, it’s Knox who picks up the phone. “Hello?” 

“I promise not to raise hell— and to stop Charlie from raising hell,” he says before he can find it in himself to explain his full thought process.

It takes a Knox to figure out what he’s saying. “Neil? Wait-- are you saying--?”

“Yes,” Neil nods even though Knox can’t see him as he takes a seat on the couch, close enough that the phone wire still reaches.

He can almost hear Knox smiling on the other end of the line. “So you’re gonna end the feud?”

“I’m sure as hell going to try.”

  
  


The week goes by quickly, and the next thing Todd Anderson knows, the day he’s been dreading is here; Todd’s mother is telling him to come downstairs. For the third time.

He doesn’t want to go downstairs; he would be perfectly content spending the rest of the evening writing or even just laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Todd would much rather spend the evening thinking himself to death than go downstairs right now; because if he does, he has to attend the party and Todd doesn’t do parties.

Well, he’s only been to one party outside of his house before, a Ballencrest party, that he was pretty sure he had been invited to out of pure pity. Todd had spent the first part of the night standing in the corner, watching people drink and smoke and laugh and just generally enjoy themselves with their friends. He spent the second half of the night being sick on the front porch, alone, because he had never really drank before that night and the stress of the whole situation made him overdo it.

It was awful, to put it lightly.

But Todd has been to plenty of his parents’ parties in his lifetime, and those are even worse than that one terrible Ballencrest party. They always went the same way; boring chatter and his parents' friends getting too drunk. They’re too loud, too chaotic, and everyone is always fawning over his older brother; and when they do force Todd to join in on the conversations, his brother is all they want to talk about: Jeffery this, Jeffery that. Not to mention Jeffery, one of the few people he can normally lean on just a bit, always takes these parties as an opportunity to meet women, leaving Todd alone, nursing a drink, just waiting for the whole thing to be over, hoping to God that he doesn’t get pulled into another conversation.

Eventually, though, Todd does have to make his way downstairs. First, he puts on the too-tight suit that was Jeffery’s when he was Todd’s age and pulls on the slightly scuffed dress shoes that used to be his father’s. Then after cleaning most of his room (which he still doesn’t understand why he has to do, it’s not like they’re having the fucking party in his room), he makes his way downstairs. His mother is frantic, trying to get everything in the perfect place, making sure the food’s ready to be brought around by the butlers and that there’s plenty of wine and other various drinks out; his father is still up in his office, finishing up the day’s work before the party. Todd doesn’t know where Jeffery is so he just waits anxiously, fingers nervously tangling with themselves in front of him.

The next two hours go quickly, and the next thing Todd knows, the party is in full swing.

And then there is Todd, doing everything he can to stay out of the middle of it. If he’s honest, both he and his parents prefer if he does everything he can to stay out of their way; he’s completely shit at parties and conversation and interacting with people, but he’s excellent at staying out of the way. It’s one of the things he actually does best.

God, Todd Anderson fucking hates parties. They're just too much; too loud, too overwhelming. He sticks to his small corner, watching the entire thing from what feels like a million miles away.

He could go join the ongoing conversations but God, Todd fucking hates small talk.

Todd just people-watches, watching as people drink and laugh. Cameron is over across the room, talking heatedly with Todd’s father. Todd doesn’t know what Cameron’s so pissed about but he’s clearly upset. 

For a moment, Todd considers going over to ask, but Todd really doesn’t want to deal with Cameron’s complaining or his father’s bullshit.

Jesus Christ, it’s going to be a long night.

  
  


Getting ready for the Anderson’s party takes Neil a surprising amount of time-- what do you even wear to the party of your father’s archnemesis? (Okay, maybe that’s strong wording, but you get his point). He’s been to fancy parties in his lifetime— a side effect of being his father’s son— so he’s well-versed in what to wear and how to act at big events, but he doesn’t even know what to act like around the Anderson’s. And even if Knox is wrong and they’re horrible people, Neil has spent a lifetime in his father’s home and is _great_ at being pleasant around unpleasant people.

Eventually, Neil decides on the suit he always used to wear when his father’s friends' holiday parties— it’s been two or so years since he’s worn it, and since he’s only eighteen he’s grown quite a bit, so it’s now a little short in the ankles. But it’s the only suit he’s got, so that’s that.

Neil makes his way downstairs and thinks he’s about to make it out before his father asks any questions but then—

“Where are you going?”

The voice makes Neil stop cold in his tracks in the middle of his house. He turns slowly on his heel to find his father sitting in his armchair in the living room, newspaper open in front of him, reading up about the stock market or some shit that Neil really doesn’t care about.

“I’m going to Charlie’s house,” Neil explains, trying not to sound rushed.

“In a suit?”

“Yeah,” Neil says confidently because he’s come to realize that in life you can get away with just about anything if you sound confident about it.

Surely enough, his father turns back to his newspaper with a nod. “Alright. Be home by curfew.”

“Yes, sir,” Neil grins and then turns on his heel quickly before his father can question him further.

  
  


“This party is going to be _interesting_ ,” Neil’s saying to Charlie. They don’t have a ride but luckily, as the Dalton’s live in the same high-class neighborhood as the Anderson’s, it’s not too far of a walk.

“Well, luckily there should at least be alcohol,” Charlie points out and Neil grins.

“Yeah, let’s just say _fuck it_ and instead of meeting and making nice with the Andersons, we’ll just get drunk off our asses instead,” Neil jokes.

Charlie considers this a moment and nods, “Yeah, sounds alright to me.”

“I’m kidding, Dalton. We have a mission-- well, as long as they let us in. If they recognize us or ask our names, they probably will kick us off the property,” Neil says.

“I don’t know if they’ll kick me out— I’m not a Perry,” Charlie shrugs. They turn down another street, continuing past the tall, beautiful houses that line the streets out here. The houses on this side of town make even the Perrys’ too-expensive house look just plain sad.

Neil laughs. “You punched Richard Cameron in the face. Multiple times.”

“So?”

“I’d bet you _just about anything_ Cameron’s there.”

Charlie wiggles his eyebrows. “We’ll use disguises then.”

“We’re not using fucking disguises!” Neil laughs, shoving Charlie slightly which just makes Charlie break into laughter too. They walk a bit longer, a small, comfortable silence passing between them. It takes a moment before Charlie opens a new topic.

“I wish Knox was coming tonight,” Charlie says, mournfully prodding a rock on the pavement with the toe of his dress shoe.

“I’m sure we’ll hang out with him this break-- and even if not, we’ll be back at school in just a few weeks.”

“Yeah,” Charlie mutters but the word comes out slow and disappointed. “I just— miss him.”

Something about the way he says it reminds Neil of the way Knox used to talk during their Sophomore year, back when he dated Chris, when long weeks would pass between them being able to spend time together. They’ve now been broken up for nearly two years, though.

Neil raises his eyebrows at Charlie; he’s not judging, simply-- observing. “You two seem to be spending more time together recently.”

Charlie suddenly looks worried, which is strange because Charlie never looks worried. “I just mean— he’s fun to hang out with, you know?”

Neil is about to question him further but then they arrive on the front lawn of the Anderson’s property. The house is very obviously already alive; dozens, maybe hundreds, of cars are out front and people are making their way in.

Something is up with Charlie, but Neil decides to put a pin in that for later.

As it turns out, Neil and Charlie get inside with no trouble, and soon they’re surrounded by people. They quickly get pulled into the bustling crowd, and Neil has to be careful not to get separated from Charlie.

It is the kind of night you could get lost in; all dazzling lights and glasses of wine and idle chatter. There are swarms of people, all laughing and drinking. Neil loves parties; he loves the excited, wild energy; he adores conversation and being here, in a room full of lights and shiny floors and dancing. And maybe Neil isn’t much one for fancy houses and rich people, but he’s spent his entire childhood around his father’s rich friends who believed he was one of them, so as much as he dislikes the rich people’s conversation, it’s still conversation, and Neil loves that. Neil really just does love people.

Eventually, Neil and Charlie make their way out of the crowd and they spend awhile just lingering around the refreshments, trying to take the whole thing in. 

“Well-- do we just find them and start making conversation?” Charlie asks, already on his second scotch.

Neil looks around and frankly, he has no idea how they’re going to find the Andersons in this mess. There’s too much happening, too much excitement, and the only Anderson Neil thinks he’ll recognize is Jeffery, who went to their school a few years back.

“Well, in addition to making nice with the Anderson’s,” Neil says. “We can just try to be a part of it all, I guess?” 

“This is already getting boring,” Charlie says as he finishes off his scotch. “We’re going to have some fun.”

Neil raises some eyebrows. “Some fun?”

“We’re going to get you laid.”

"Oh lord," Neil says but he can't help but laugh. He hopes Charlie is joking but can immediately tell by the glint in his eye that he’s dead serious.

“So anybody catching your eye?”

Neil looks around-- there’s quite a few people around who are their age, eighteen going on nineteen, and Neil thinks distantly about his most recent date.

“Well-- my Dad’s been trying to set me up recently, actually.”

“With who?” Charlie looks both intrigued and horrified by the prospect of Neil’s father wanting to set Neil up with anyone; Neil really falls on the more horrified side of the spectrum.

“Father wants me to start seeing Ginny Danbury.”

Charlie makes a gagging noise. “ _Ginny Danbury_?”

“She’s really not that awful but-- Dad just wants me to build a white-picket-fence life with someone who has money.” _Not to mention I’m queer as hell_ , Neil wants to add.

“He wants you to be a trophy husband?”

“Something like that.”

Charlie surveys the room, and Neil almost asks him why they aren’t getting Charlie laid instead, but then Charlie says, “What about her?”

There’s a blonde woman who’s got to be at least their age, if not older, pouring herself a drink. Neil’s stomach twists as he thinks about possibly kissing a girl; he tries to remind himself if Charlie makes him go talk to a girl, he’ll just make friendly conversation, and try to avoid all sexual or romantic situations.

Neil just shrugs. “I’m not sure if she’s really my type.”

“Anyone else?” Charlie asks and his eyes follow a boy walking by. “Anyone… different?”

Does Charlie know? Neil’s chest suddenly starts to panic because it’s one of the secrets he’s never told anyone, not even Charlie; no one knows Neil’s queer.

“None of the girls here seem like people you’d be interested in,” Charlie adds on, giving Neil a look.

“No, no they’re not,” Neil says slowly.

He can’t tell if they’re getting at the same thing; if Charlie is hinting at something deeper than what their conversation appears to be on the surface. Does he have a clue Neil's queer? Neil trusts Charlie, he really does, but maybe he can just ask, just see—

“Ugh—“ Charlie says loudly, making a disgusted noise into his drink.

“What?”

Charlie throws a glare to a nearby group where a familiar redhead is in deep and clearly stuffy conversation with a few guests; Neil is pretty sure he hears someone mention sailing, golf, and their brand new car in one breath, and Neil is about ten seconds away from pitching himself into the punch bowl. “Cameron’s here. Gross.”

Neil can’t help but laugh. “Please, for the love of God, don’t start another fight.”

“No, no, I won’t,” Charlie assures him. “Just who thinks ‘oh I’m gonna have a party; you know who I should invite? _Cameron_.’”

This makes Neil laugh, head thrown back and shaking until his stomach hurts kind of laugh and it’s when Neil finally stops that he finds someone through the crowd. There’s a boy across the room, and he swears to God the world stops for a minute. He’s leaning against the wall, drinking wine gingerly out of a long-stemmed glass; his energy is nervous, fingers tapping against glass but he has soft blond hair falling into his eyes. Although he's clearly not thrilled to be there, he looks like he's just one small conversation away from a smile. He looks a bit shorter than Neil but Neil can't completely tell from right here, and everything about him just seems _soft_.

The boy from across the room is fucking breath-taking.

“Who’s that?” Neil asks Charlie, gesturing in his direction as he leans over to pour himself another drink.

Charlie shrugs. “The blond kid? Not a clue.”

“Hmm…” Neil says distractedly, trying not to get too lost in thought. Neil slowly takes a sip of his own wine and as he lowers it to his side, the blond from across the room catches his eye, and for a moment Neil feels pinned into place. His chest starts to flutter. Suddenly, they’re the only two people in this goddamn room, and something about this all feels dangerous but important, and Neil hopes to God the rest of the evening goes well.

After all, the night’s barely started.


End file.
